


A Little Friendly Competetion

by ArkadyFlinch



Series: Raleigh Shepard [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Armex Arsenal Arena, Banter, F/M, Fluff, Infiltrator (Mass Effect), Mass Effect 3: Citadel, Mature for violence, Paragade (Mass Effect), combat sim, friendly competetion, terrible flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:04:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3946432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArkadyFlinch/pseuds/ArkadyFlinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard invites Garrus to finally settle a long-standing score between them in the combat sim at Armex Arsenal Arena. As usual neither is willing to admit defeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Friendly Competetion

“Shepard…”  


Her eyes flickered from the display to him, before darting back. She was setting up their next match, choosing the enemies and difficulty of the sim.  


“Did you seriously beat all the high scores in one day? This was supposed to be shore leave.”  


She kept her face carefully blank, but her voice was tight, like she was trying not to show her amusement. “It was relaxing. Had to blow off some steam somehow.”  


“Either these sims aren’t as competitive as the multibillion credit industry lets on or you’ve been holding out on us.” He scrolled through the high scores while she stared at the bonuses screen. “You broke the scoreboards! Why are we even here?”  
This time she shot him a small smile, selecting a medi-gel and ammo cap for their match. “I wanted to do one with you. Finally settle our little competition. No confusing battlefield, no Citadel tornados to get in the way. You, Me, all the Cerberus scum we can handle until you finally admit I’m the better sniper.”  


She closed the selection screen and waved him into the locker room.  


“Now Shepard we already decided who was the better shot...among other things… remember?”  


He heard her laugh, a harsh barking sound, and he watched her move to the weapons bench and start disassembling her Black Widow. She never changed her mods. But she did love to take the gun apart, putz around with new mods, and reassemble it as if she hadn’t had it perfectly set up before.  


Shepard had to have her hands busy at all times. He didn’t know why he’d expected her to just relax in her new apartment. Or why he’d been surprised to see her initials in nearly every arcade game and in the battle sim next to the maxed out scores.  


“Sure you can shoot brightly colored bottles out of the air, Vakarian, but can you take out a Phantom or a cloaked Nemesis while Troopers breathe down your neck? How about some Guardians? I wanna see how many mailbox shots you can land while a mech is pinning us under cover.” Her voice grew warm while she spoke, smile curling her lips and eyes widening with excitement. That old Shepard charm, it was good to see her so enthusiastic about this match. After what they’d been through on Thessia she deserved some time to take her mind off of it. Even if her free time was spent murdering holographic Cerberus troops.  


Her thermal scope slid back onto her rifle, and she raised it to sight down the scope, make sure everything was aligned.  


“I’d hate for all your new fans to see you get destroyed by someone who knows what he’s doing.” He cocked his head and leaned against the weapons bench. He didn’t need to change his own weapons, like Shepard he obsessively cleaned and maintained his guns.  


He enjoyed watching her work though. She had bought the Black Widow the second she’d realized her Spectre status granted her special requisition privileges. The joy that had been on her face at the sight of the gun’s beautiful black lines had been quite the sight. She didn’t express much, and when she did it was during one of those rare times her guard was down, or her emotions were too strong to keep behind her usually blank face.  


“They’ll live. I’ve set the sim to count our kills, no cheating with your visor this time. Whoever has the most wins this. Once and for all.” She settled the rifle butt on her hip, turning to him, mirroring his head tilt and throwing in something extra by shifting her hips away from the table. He’d seen many people approach her with endorsement contracts, commercial ideas, and even modeling deals. She wasn’t smooth and sleek and curvy like the models, but with her rugged edges and those goddamn eyes paired with her tanned skin and wolfish grin…he could see why they approached her with such offers. Hero status aside, she caught the eye and commanded ones attention.  


He tore his gaze away from her waist and grinned at her, leaning close, “What if it ends in a tie?”  


“We’ll just have to have a tiebreaker, won’t we?” That slow, crooked smile appeared on her face and she leaned forward too, daring him to be the first to break the tension between them. “Play nice. There’ll be cameras.”

There had been warning signs before this. Shepard’s cool, amused demeanor before the match had started should’ve tipped him off, but he’d assumed it was part of their usual pre-battle competitive ribbing. When the match itself started, he found himself alone on the map, Shepard’s cloak keeping him from following her to whatever cover she was heading for.  


“Shepard also dedicates this match to the Help a Dream Foundation.” The announcer intoned.  


He searched the field for a good nest to settle into, heading up the ramps towards higher ground. Electricity danced at his feet as he passed some sort of stage hazard. He noted how the metal spheres conducting the trails of electricity over his head could easily detach from their holds.  


She’d chosen her favorite arena, but he found it disorienting. The screaming of the crowds and simulated flashes in the stands made him uneasy, made it hard to pretend they weren’t being watched. Her voice came over the comm,  


“No kill-stealing this time, Vakarian. We’re going solo. You stay on your half of the map, and I’ll stay on mine.”  


She appeared directly across from him, hidden in a small bunker on the lower end of the map while he took cover in the higher ground.  


“It’s not stealing if it’s my bullet that kills them.”  


“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Garrus.” She let out a husky laugh.  
The match began, and they fell into their own rhythm.  


Garrus never missed, and he took the time to fire, breathing in, holding it, and pulling the trigger on the exhale. He was, in his opinion, the best sniper on the Normandy. No one had his finesse. Not even Shepard.  


Shepard,though…Shepard’s style was risky and downright frightening. She was significantly more reckless, and he’d seen her waste entire clips missing by a fraction of an inch. As bad as her losing streaks were, when she hit her winning streak she decimated battlefields.  
After picking him up off Menae she’d taken him and Vega to liberate Grissom Academy. She’d broken into stride there, leaving entire rooms full of headless Cerberus corpses. He didn’t think Vega had known how gruesome it could be when all Shepard seemed to shoot were perfect headshots. The massive man had turned green when he first saw the aftermath.  


Her form was good, but what was strange to him was how little time she spent sighting the scope. She pointed her gun at an enemy, raised the gun to her shoulder, found their head, and without breathing or stabilizing her shot she fired. He’d noticed that she pulled her gun to the right when she fired the rifle, either a result of her new body and all the aches and pains came with those cybernetics or just bad habit. Perhaps a bit of both. It’d gotten worse since her resurrection. That pulling to the right was one of the quirks he’d recognized after her reanimation that had convinced him that this was The Commander Shepard, hero of the Citadel, not some Cerberus trick back on Omega.  


Even her clone hadn’t held the same form. Her clone had made the mistake of steadying herself and using those common breathing exercises to steady her shot. While she had been wasting time taking aim, Shepard had filled the clone’s body with shots from her own sniper rifle.  


He still needed to get her to talk about that. ‘Later’ she said. ‘Later’ never came. She was a ‘Now’ kind of woman. What she put off for 'Later' generally turned into 'Never'.  


Garrus crouched back into cover as the last enemy dropped, and the next wave began to materialize. He peered around his rather comfortable perch at the highest end of the map to sight out Shepard.  


Her position was well secured but it was a little boxed in for her tastes. Shepard hated to be cornered, why’d she choose that bunker? It was at the lowest point on the map, she couldn’t find it easy to shoot down there.  


It did, however, occupy an open position that many enemies could flock to, rather than running all the way up the ramps to his position. While she got the brunt of the Cerberus attacks, he was free to pick off whom he liked. While she had the freedom to pick and choose who to shoot, he had to wait for that stupid Armax sign to spin out of the line of his shots.  


She seemed to be in one of her losing streaks. He saw several shots go wide, and she rarely squeezed a headshot in. Good for him. Not so much for her.  


The rapid fire of her Suppressor downed a handful of Troopers and he cursed, picking off enemies quickly in an effort to catch up.  
He glanced up at the scoreboard and huffed, damn, they were tied. He had two waves to utterly destroy her.  


He flashed her a grin when he caught the glint of her scope pointing at his hideout.  


“Winded yet, Vakarian?” Her smooth tones broke the gunfire from the new wave.  


“Come on, Shepard, you’ve got me shooting…what’s the human phrase? Fish in a bucket?”  


“Fish in a barrel, big guy. You’re lucky I’m popular down here. Drawing most of the fire.”  


An explosion shook the ground, and he saw her little bunker fill with smoke.  


“You’ll have to explain how that one came about some other time. Why put fish in barrels? Why shoot them?”  


He was rewarded with a laugh from her, followed by a hiss as a Guardian closed in.  


He found himself trying not to get distracted by Shepard. The vicious curling of her lips as she shattered another guardians skull through the slot in his riot shield, the small, bloodthirsty smile she got after his figure crumpled on the ground. He saw her hair slick with sweat, locks pressed to her forehead and dark in the shadows and smoke of her bunker. He had to tear his scope away to make sure she didn’t get ahead of him.  


They fought off the second wave and to Garrus’ disappointment they were still tied.  


“Don’t tell me you gave us an even number of enemies, Shepard.” He bit out as he saw two mechs and a fair number of Phantoms and Nemeses appear for the last wave.  


“Consider it extra initiative to win.”  


He was drawn away from his perch overlooking the entire battlefield by a charging Phantom. He retreated down the ramp while he peppered her with bullets to wear down her barrier.  


By the time he got back to his original position there were only a handful of enemies left including the two mechs. He got to work on one while Shepard worked on the other. She sabotaged her mech and fired her Suppressor at it.  


The mech she was fighting turned and fired a rocket at the other, destroying it before Garrus could get the kill-shot in. Immediately afterwards Shepard’s mech shuddered under her bullets and followed suit.  


“Who’s stealing kills now, Shepard?”  


“I didn’t do that, the mech did.”  


“Scoreboard counted it as yours.” He growled.  


This wasn’t good. They were tied and there were two enemies left. Both down in the main arena closer to Shepard. He ran down to a lower platform, the only thing separating them was the main area and the slowly spinning Armex sign.  


He saw the Nemesis before she did and executed the sniper. He reloaded and turned towards the last trooper. One more and he won. He glanced at her bunker and switched his attention hurriedly to the Trooper.  


Shepard had left the bunker. She could be anywhere and he didn’t have time to key in his visor’s IR scanner. For all he knew she could be kidney-punching the trooper right now with her fancy pistol-mounted taser.  


The last trooper had run behind new cover, and he waited for the man to pop up before firing. Just as his finger tightened on the trigger he saw the glow or Shepard’s omniblade. The last thing the Trooper heard was her shout.  


“Damn.” He groaned, but his trigger finger twitched, still fighting the certainty that he'd been unfairly defeated.  


She sliced the trooper in two and laughed as his bullet shot through the disintegrating light waves. Her figure flickered into view and he watched her through the scope as she returned to her little sunken bunker.  


Their scores stood tied.  


He purred into the comm, “Well, Shepard, that was fun, we’ll just have to have a little tiebreaker later, perhaps at your new apartment?”  


As the seconds passed he felt something was wrong. Why hadn’t the announcer declared team Shepard the winner? There were no more Cerberus enemies. No one else in the Armex Arsenal Arena but he and the Commander.  


Her scope glinted in the light once more and he barely pulled his head down in time to dodge her shot.  


“What the hell, Shepard?!”  


“Tiebreaker round, Vakarian. Don’t worry. They’re concussive rounds. Don’t want to make you any uglier.”  


He grit his teeth as he counted her shots. At the third he peeked up over the barrier and sighted her in his own gun.  
He hadn’t ever thought she’d be in his scope like this again. The memory still unnerved him, but his adrenaline was running, and he wasn’t going to lose because he was hesitant to shoot a few concussive rounds at his Commander.  


When she came out of cover to shoot at him again he squeezed the trigger. She dove out of the way just in time and shot an incendiary at him, which he easily avoided.  


They fought like this for a few minutes, feeling each other out. Shepard was trapped in her bunker while he had the freedom to flank her. He moved slowly closer, hiding behind cover and only breaking it to move or to coax her to waste three more rounds shooting at him.  
“Really, Shepard? At this rate you’ll run out of ammo.”  


Her lack of reply, and the auspicious lack of gunfire was rather interesting.  


“Are you out of ammo, Shepard?”  


He pulled up his scope and shot her as she scrambled out of the bunker, round clipping her leg.  


She staggered, and rolled behind cover before he could take advantage.  
A round from her Suppressor forced him back down.  


“That guns strong, Shep but it’s only got, what, thirty rounds? How many did you waste on that mech?”  


“If you spent more time shooting your gun than shooting your mouth we wouldn’t be having this tiebreaker.” Her breathing was heavy, and he caught sight of her hiding behind the revolving sign.  


“If you spent the time to aim you wouldn’t be hiding behind a sign with no ammo, Shepard. Maybe Jacob was right – you do need a team to carry you.”  


He knew better than to antagonize her, but if she really was out of ammo the win was his. Not even her cloak could hide from his visor, and he was smart enough to keep her far away. Speaking of…he turned on his IR function, watching her slowly crawl around the sign as it spun.  
He brought up his sniper and waited for the sign to spin out of the way, baring her unprotected, and crouching figure for the finishing headshot.  


When the sign swung out of the way she wasn’t there.  


He felt a jolt of panic for a second before he tapped the side of his visor and swept the arena for signs of Shepard. Her signature was gone.  


Her weapons were stowed behind a crate nearby, the Suppressor still glowing hot. He couldn’t find her, though.  


“Shepard…?”  


“What’s wrong? Can’t see me, big guy?”  


Her voice made him turn his head wildly as he tried to find the source, but she was only talking to him over the comm, for now.  


“You made your cloak mask your heat signature?”  


“Something I’ve been working on in my downtime. Like it? Nemeses can’t run from me anymore.”  


He drew his assault rifle, knowing that if and when she next appeared it would be close by. He’d seen her beat enemies down coming out of her cloak. Even shielded enemies. She just continued punching them. Centurions, Geth, even a few krogan. Luckily she’d left her suppressor behind.

No pistol melee stunner. Maybe she figured that would be cruel. 

Not that cruel was anything new for Shepard, but she needed him operational later. Hopefully she was still up for an additional tiebreaker. Hell, the way this fight was going, he certainly was.  


His body thrummed with energy. The sim couldn’t quite give him the same adrenaline rush actual battle did, but now, knowing Shepard was after him, he felt a thrill of excitement run through his body. His heart beat satisfyingly fast and hard. His muscles sang with energy.  
He counted down the seconds her cloak could stay active – although she may have changed that, too – and kept his wits about him. He strained to hear her footsteps through the roaring of the crowds. Tried to see the distortion field.  
Maybe it was another of Cerberus’ upgrades, but Shepard could see the distortion fields of cloaked enemies, and the first few times she’d watched Geth Hunter’s walk right up to Garrus she’d been screaming at him to ‘fucking shoot the fucking enemy right in fucking front of him.’ Since then she’d pulled him aside on several occasions and cloaked herself, hoping to get him to learn how to pick out the rippling airwaves so she didn’t have to worry about a Hunter sneaking up on him again.  
Now that Rannoch was saved, though, he figured he wouldn’t have to worry about Hunters ever again. But now, he was grateful for the training.  


In the end, though, it was her scent he caught onto first. The acrid stench of those Cerberus smoke bombs coating her armor. He turned towards it and just barely blocked a punch he felt rather than saw coming with his rifle. She shimmered and her cloak deactivated, and the real fight began.  


She tore the rifle out of his hands, flinging it to the side. He was ready for her, and threw a punch under her guard, connecting solidly with the area just beneath her ribs. The air rushed out of her lungs with a grunt, and she rolled backwards out of range.  
Shepard darted back towards him, sharp little knuckles managing to land a few hits between his armor plating. He growled and retaliated with a kick, sending her skidding along the ground. She wasn’t giving him enough time to draw his sniper, so he wouldn’t give her enough time to regain her footing.  


He rushed her, slamming his hands on her chest plate before she could get up. His knees fell on either side of her, and he slammed her body back into the ground by the shoulders.  


Her eyes went wide, small black pupils fixing on him with a ferocity that set his heart beating much faster. Her lips drew back, exposing her teeth and she let out a low snarl. Her entire body twisted, writhing below him, until she slid out of his grip bonelessly. This feat never ceased to amaze him, and he growled, hand fastening on her ankle as she tried to get away. Her boot connected with his chest, and she got to her feet, disappearing into her tactical cloak.  


He readied himself, guard up, stance ready for anything. He tried to catch her scent again. It was harder to pick out now, the smell of smoke was everywhere.  


He heard the thumping of her boots coming from the right and swung his arm out to the side, jabbing with his other hand at the space he estimated her to be. It was a glancing blow and she slid aside, fists pummeling his back. The cloak shimmered off as she swung a fist at his cowl, aiming for the soft area around his neck where the armor wasn’t so thick.  


He dodged backwards, lashing out a fist to connect with the side of her head. Her eyes closed momentarily, her equilibrium thrown off as she staggered to the side, arms thrown wide. He took the opportunity to grab her arm and throw her over his shoulder. She landed with a heavy thud and let out a pained yelp.

If he didn’t know her better he would feel bad about the cheap shots. Over the course of their relationship – even before when he was an officer blinded by his own hero worship – he knew she took cheap shots and she encouraged him to do the same, at least when fighting her.  


When her eyes focused on him, he saw fire. And when he charged her she leapt to her feet to meet him head on.  


They’d sparred before on the Normandy. Intoxicating, was what it was. He had to hold himself back on her weak points, and they never sparred without her armor on, but she always delighted him with her enthusiasm. She enjoyed getting knocked around just as much as she did testing his guard. She wasn’t impossible to defeat, but she always brought something new to their matches, determined to best him with something new and daring. He never grew tired of seeing that bright life in her eyes when she launched another attack. Neither of them grew frustrated with the other. Neither of them felt bad losing to the other, only a determination to succeed the next time. And lots of trash talking, as she’d termed it, of course.

When they broke apart, breathing heavily, bodies aching pleasantly, he grit out, circling her.  
“Shepard I thought we were competing for best sniper.”  


“If a sniper loses his gun or runs out of ammo, what good are they? Need to be well rounded.” She threw a few punches at him, but they were losing their force.  


He grabbed one arm and twisted it behind her, other hand fastening on her shoulder, he breathed in her ear, “A good sniper doesn’t run out of ammo. Or let the enemy get this close.”  


Her body went limp, and he tightened his grip, but Shepard’s propensity for wriggling out of tight situations was no joke, he felt her weight sag against him, arm sliding and moving in impossible ways to give her the leverage to break his hold. Her elbow connected with his waist and he let out a sharp hiss. The second she was free her cloak masked her movements once more.  


He was panting, almost at the end of his restraint, both for playing nice and for behaving appropriately in front of the cameras. This needed to end soon.

“Match.” Shepard called from behind his shoulder.  


He spun around at her voice and found the muzzle of his own assault rifle pressed into his chest.  
He leaned forward into the gun, eyes locked on hers. “I Yield.”  


As unfair as her victory was, he didn’t feel like getting hit with a round of concussives at point blank range.  


She snorted, sliding the heatsink out of the weapon with a quick jerk.  


“Match goes to Shepard.” The VI announced.  


His eyes narrowed, “If I’d known I would be fighting you in that damned cloak, I would’ve prepared-“  


“But you didn’t.” She retrieved her weapons and made her way towards the exit.  


“This wasn’t a fair match.” He was following her, trying to crowd her, growling in irritation. He all but forced her against the elevator wall with his presence. Not touching her, but way too close to keep her at ease. “I was the top hand-to-hand specialist on my ship. No way you can beat me in a fair match.”  


They entered the elevator, Shepard barely containing a smile and Garrus making a show of being the sore loser. Before the doors opened again she ran a gloved hand over the shell of his armor, finger trailing down his chest. “So you admit I’m the better sniper?”  


“Never. Just more pressing matters to settle.” He put some bass in his voice, watching her shiver appreciatively. “A man has to keep his honor. There’s no way a soft slender human beats me in a sparring match.” He drew out the ‘ss’ of his words, claw prodding the flat plates of her chest piece, pushing her further into the wall.  


The doors opened and she slid around him like water, avoiding making contact despite the close quarters. 

She swayed out of the elevator, extra emphasis in her hips making him visibly restrain himself with a cut off growl and the closing of his eyes. He waited for her to move out of his range before following her up the stairs out of the combatant’s quarters.

“Shepard! Commander Shepard!” Her smile and her swaying movements ground to a halt at the familiar voice. The pleasant curling of her lips turned rigid, and became a baring of teeth thinly veiled as a smile. He caught sight of that damned floating camera.  


“Khalisah al-Jilani…what a nice surprise.” Her voice was flat. She crossed her arms, shifting her weight as the reporter ambushed her right outside the combatant’s gates.  


“Shepard, I have questions!” The reporter extended her omnitool, “What do you have to say to the public, the people currently dying or fighting for their lives about your success in the Armex Arsenal Arena? You have quite a few sponsors, you’ve broken scoreboards! Is all this time spent on games worth the people we’ve lost in this war?”  


While the overly excited woman ranted, Shepard’s hands methodically closed into fists and opened. She was gazing at the area right above Jilani’s shoulder, that impassive mask on her face.  


Her arms dropped at the reporter’s last question, hands folding behind her back. He saw her make a gun with her hand and two of her fingers opened in a ‘v’ before closing again.  
Following her orders, he pretended to give them space, pulling up his omnitool as he leaned against the railing nearby.  


“Do I really need to explain the term ‘mandated shore leave’ to you?” Shepard huffed a heavy sigh. “What am I expected to do with my ship in dry dock?”  


“You are the most influential human of the century, Commander, surely you can think of something beneficial to do with your time off.”  


There was a heavy clunk as Jilani’s camera drone fell to the ground. Garrus peeked over his shoulder for the show once his job was done. This was gonna be good.  


With the camera gone Shepard stepped into Jilani’s space.  


“I’m a very tense person, Khalisah. Lots of stress, being the only person to spearhead this war for the past…gosh, how long? Three years?” She slowly brought up her fist, looking at it as the reporter’s eyes fixated on it.  


“When I have time off, I need to get rid of that stress to get to 100% again. Just so happens killing pro-human terrorists does the trick.”  


The reporter’s eyes were glued to her hand, mouth gaping slightly. Garrus could still see the bruise from her last encounter with Shepard on the woman’s face.  


“Does this seem like you’re helping with the stress? Dealing with the same yapping woman who’s had some sort of angle on me the entire time I’ve been fighting this war?”  


She jerked her fist forward, not far enough to hit the woman, but it had the desired effect. Jilani fell over herself trying to get away from Shepard, spluttering about reporting her to C-Sec.  


She turned to look at Garrus, eyebrow raised. “I’m not too worried about C-Sec. They’ve got better things to do.”  


They silently left the combat sim, Garrus tailing her as she was congratulated by the various Armex spectators.  
Just outside of the doors Shepard stiffened, and broke into a run. He saw her make a beeline for a Turian matron and the small fledgling she was pushing in a wheelchair down the walkway.  


“Lati?”  


Oh. He’d watched the match she’d set up just for the child. Every match since then had been dedicated to the girl, and he had had to hold himself back from teasing her about it. Soft spots on Shepard were unexpected, but when she’d read the emails sent from Lati’s mother he had seen something vulnerable in her face.  


She greeted the two and crouched down to talk to the girl face-to-face. He stood off to the side, observing.  
That expression was back on her face. Not pity. She wouldn’t let the girl see something like that. He couldn’t quite place the expression, however, he’d never seen it on her face before. Maybe a glimpse of it, in their quiet moments after…ah, ’blowing off steam’. He’d never been able to give it a name.  


“It was an honor to fight for you.” She was saying, gazing into the sick girl’s eyes and offering a small smile.  


Lati looked ill, but Shepard had told him she was on the road to recovery. Her plates were dull and more ash gray than the tan ones of her mother. Her eyes were slightly glazed over, but the green within flickered to life as Shepard had approached. Her colony markings were beautiful and elaborate black lines that spiraled around her eyes and curled along her mandibles.  


The turian fledgling raised a shaky, rail-thin arm and tried to salute, but her body wouldn’t cooperate with her. Shepard’s hand stopped her from inadvertently hitting herself in the nose, and pressed her hand between her own.  


“You’re my hero, C-Commander.”  


The girl breathed, eyes wide, thrumming excitedly.

“I’m no hero without someone to fight for. Thank you.”  


Garrus watched them talk about everything and nothing at all. Shepard asked her about her favorite parts about her matches. Lati asked Shepard what it was like to be a hero. He saw her expression flicker for a moment, pain replaced by a bright smile and a ridiculous reply that had the turian girl in a fit of giggles.  


Shepard stood after a moment and conversed with her mother. She opened her omnitool and promised to keep in touch as she got their information from the mother. Shepard saluted the girl, and grinned, waving at the two as she reluctantly took her leave.  
He thought about making a smart comment about the tender expression he’d caught in her face before she’d taken control of her features, but couldn’t quite bring himself to bother her about something that had meant so much for the girl.  


Seeing both sides to Shepard in so short a time filled him with warmth. An Unconquerable badass and a tender role model in one. He’d been worrying about the hard look in her eyes lately, it was nice to see her genuinely speak with someone without having some sort of aim.  
It was also intriguing how her gaze followed the pair as they moved through the crowds out of sight. Left him with a different sort of warm feeling. He’d never before considered whether or not Shepard was good with kids – he’d assumed that she was just as rough and unforgiving with them as she was with adults. It was…interesting seeing her make Lati laugh.  


“Nice thing you did there, Shepard.” He spoke quietly.  


She glanced at him, small smile appearing and disappearing on her face. Muscles twitched under her skin, but she fought to control it. “I haven’t thought about her in years but I had a niece who had cancer. She wasn’t so lucky.” She fell silent and he felt like that was the last he would hear about it.  


“Wait you had a niece...so…you have a sibling?”  


She angrily waved the question away, voice raw and breaking, “Had. We’ll talk about it later.”  


He stood by her side while she watched the crowds, eyes fixed on one point. He bumped into her side and grabbed her hand in his, and she squeezed it hard, fingers digging in between his fingers. After some silence where she blinked rapidly she let out a hoarse cough.  
“Wanna spend some time with me tonight?” At first her voice wavered but it gained strength as the words left her mouth. She straightened her shoulders and rolled her neck.  


When she wasn’t so raw he would tease her mercilessly about being such a softie. For now he bumped into her again, feeling the heat coming off her skin.  


“Do you even need to ask?”  


Just like that she was back. Her poisonous yellow gaze drilled into his, her mouth quirked, undecided between a smirk and a sneer. "Apparently I do. You know that everyone on the Normandy knows about us, right? No need to be shy. I have a private cabin all to myself. No one comes by unless I call them. You'd probably get more sleep up there."

He laughed, eyes traveling over her body, “Somehow I doubt that.”  


She giggled and punched him before letting go of his hand and walking towards Tiberius Towers.  
“We can have a real tiebreaker. I know a place.” Her voice with its smooth yet powerful tone drifted over her shoulder and went straight to his plates. She talked about how his voice affected her but her voice, so commanding, so full and vibrant, unlike the flat, wavering tones of most other humans always caught his notice. He could pick her out in a room full of alien voices.  
He had to work to keep his angry grumbling from turning into a purr. Damn this woman.

“Looking forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT:: Sorry friends, I wrote a second part but it doesn't fit in with anything else and really, I'd prefer to maybe make it it's own thing if I do end up posting it. Thank you for reading!
> 
> When I saw the message from Manava T'Khanna I immediately started a match for her and I really wish they'd had Lati waiting for Shep outside the sim.


End file.
